(Un)intentionally, Of Course
by Brandisher
Summary: People were either one of two things in a world gone bust - good news, or bad news. But heck, one would care less when the dead roam their surroundings. Maybe he should have cared less too, especially when they meet in the most unconventional of places, with her gun pressed to the back of his head. Glenn/OC. Rated T for now.
1. Vignette

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Walking Dead, and any of its characters, however, I do wish I owned Glenn. My goodness. **

**A/N: This started out as a very rough and sketchy idea on my iPhone, like, "Oh, what would happen if..." Yes, that sort of thing. But anyway, let me know if you guys do like it. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

"Zipper up."

Glenn felt something pushed to the back of his head that came with the expressionless, cold command. The last thing he would have liked it to be was the barrel of a gun, but one never expects the unexpected. Especially in the men's restroom. The type of men's restroom that was long abandoned. During the era of what people think to be the end of the world.

That was until he heard the familiar 'click', and he decided that he was wrong to not have thought it as a gun. What else would he have expected? A free hug?

He hastily pulled up his zipper. "Hey, can't a guy—"

"He can, but…" she tilted the gun further. "I have my reasons."

He overcame the lump in his throat, and tried to look over his shoulder. Maybe, he thought, that he could sway her intentions into anything else, rather than blowing his brains out.

"Heh. Plan on letting me kn—" He was interrupted by a blow to his head.

There was throbbing, and the ringing in his ears seemed to sound louder than all the other sounds he would have heard. Glenn collapsed, and his line of sight followed, lowered to the grimy, tiled floor, and to her worn out combat boots.

"Goddammit, Vincent."

Their voices echoed and faded with his vision, and the black edges slowly engulfed the picture in his mind.


	2. Assumptions

**DISCLAIMER: ...I still don't own Glenn, or The Walking Dead. Sadly.**

**A/N: Hm. This might be a bit too long, guys. Took a lot of tweaking here and there because there were many parts I was unhappy with, but. This is the product. Enjoy, maybe? :)**

* * *

"Let me hear your assumptions, then."

Glenn slowly woke, and his eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the harsh light. His head still hurt. He shifted uneasily, and tried to move, but much to his avail – he was bound by his wrists and ankles to a chair.

_Thwack._

"He's a mother's boy…"

He seemed to be in a basement of some sort, except, one that looked more decrepit and torn to the point where the paint on the walls cracked and peeled off in places, and moss started to show up in all sorts of corners. One would almost be afraid of setting foot in this place, considering the state.

_Thwack._

"He's the type to collect, well, rather..." she coughed, "_lewd_ magazines…"

"C'mon…" Glenn resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

One wouldn't have considered it homely if it weren't for the attempts to make it so, with worn out furniture placed here and there to look just like the average family's living room. It was an attempt to bring back the normal lifestyle people wanted back, an attempt to recreate it.

_Thwack._

"And is… gullible?"

The ringing in his ears had lessened to a great extent, but it was still there. However, the presence of a migraine and dizziness didn't do that much justice. Neither did the fact that he was tied up.

"You ended on a doubt!" The male shook his head in disapproval, as she went to collect the darts on the board, one very close to the bullseye.

"I know, I know, but I—"she turned to hand over the darts to him, and spotted Glenn at the corner. "Oh, he's awake. It's your turn."

The male simply sighed as he started to aim at the dartboard. "I'm out of assumptions, anyway."

"We can take a score now, though," she came and pulled a chair in front of him. "So, was I correct?"

"Zero out of three." Glenn said, and the male behind her simply laughed.

"She made more than just three, considering how long you were passed out for, buddy." He was on his third dart.

"As did he, but yeah, we can discuss them later."

She crossed her legs and leaned back slightly, as if talking to tied up strangers in some sort of basement was an ordinary, everyday task for her. Heck, maybe it was.

"You're from a group, then?"

Glenn opened his mouth, and hesitated. He couldn't put the others at the camp at risk. His thoughts ran further. What would she have done? Track them down? Send him back?

He inspected her closely and tried to discern whether or not she was the type of person who were to kill him in two seconds flat, or the person who were to drag his death to an agonising two hours.

"Silence means yes," she proceeded to peel off her gloves.

"If I am, then?" The light across the room continued to take its toll on him, making his migraine worse.

"Ought to bring you back, then. We can't risk them coming to your rescue and bringing trouble to us, when we could just avoid the mess and let you go, easy."

She examined the dirt on her hand, and frowned slightly.

"Wait, wait, wait – you're saying you're letting me go?" He said, in disbelief.

"We've decided that we're going with the latter, yes – but we'd be going with you, of course." Vincent leaned against a wooden pillar, and procured a knife.

"You guys aren't worried they'll… I don't know, fuck you guys up?"

She shrugged and walked over to the sink across the room. "If we brought you back unharmed we thought they would have some humanity left in them as to not resort to bloodshed that fast."

"If you gave them a reason, maybe they would."

"We'd be careful not to. But, I cater to many preferences."

Glenn raised his eyebrows. "Right, then…"

Vincent bent down on a knee to examine the ropes, and started to tweak and pull at the knots and tangles. His eyebrows knitted together to form what seemed to be an expression of confusion on his face.

"Say, what's your name?"

"…Glenn."

"I'm Vincent, the guy who put you in this situation – sorry about that." He started to cut at random ropes, hoping that at some point, they would loosen.

"Figured," Glenn tried to glance down, but the ropes only seemed to tighten around his chest. "Why not knock out a guy who was trying to take a leak, right?"

He shrugged, and continued cutting. "Responsible for the little sister, even if she doesn't quite agree on the 'little' part."

"Yeah, sure." It was then that Glenn took up on what he said. "I'm, wait, you mean—"

"Eleven months and a few inches between our age and our height doesn't seem that whopping a difference to make me 'little', but, I'll leave you to do what you fancy anyway, brother."

She came up to both of them, knife in hand, as she polished the blade carefully with a rag.

Glenn just sat there, dumbfounded. They looked nothing like each other. Other than a few similar features, he would have never thought them to be brother and sister, more like just survivors that stumbled upon each other and enjoyed each other's company.

Which, of course, they used to their advantage.

She noticed his slack-jawed expression and commented. "It's too much to take in, yes, yes, I know," she shuddered and stepped behind him. "It's gross."

Vincent rolled his eyes, and she laughed. He then loosened the ropes on his ankles and legs completely, letting them fall off.

To Glenn, they looked just like everyone else they'd meet up and make allies with now, rather than being with the dead, whose only interest is to take a nip at your neck, or at any other limb they would manage to grab first.

Then again, maybe people were worse, he thought.

"Also, we assumed you'd keep mum about us, because, well, we haven't – actually, just forget the part where I knocked you out, yeah?" He stood up, and patted dust off of himself.

"And, we're done," She folded up the knife and tucked it in the pocket of her jeans. "Let's drop you off, now."

Glenn sighed as the last of the ropes slackened their hold on him, finally heaving a deep breath.

"Oh, and…"

He turned to face her, to find the barrel of what he recognised to be his own gun steadily fixed upon his forehead.

"Hey, what the—"

She raised an eyebrow and cocked the gun away from his face, and he relaxed, feeling his heartbeat settle once more in his chest. He watched as this stranger inspected his gun closely, and held it at various angles. She continued to experiment with the weight of the new gun in her hands, like a kid that had come across a new toy to play with.

"What model is this?" She said, and he detected a hint of intrigue in her voice.

He exhaled.

"I assume you want me to forget that she did that too, then?"

Vincent snickered.


	3. Three Guests, Zero Geeks

**DISCLAIMER: Still wishing I owned Glenn. Neither do I own The Walking Dead.**

**A/N: This... this took a while. Re-watched both the first and second episodes of the first season just to figure how to piece things together but hey, I did it! Enjoy. :) Also, reviews would be pretty helpful, thanks!**

* * *

"Again?" Dale looked at Shane, almost as if he was crazy. "He already went into the city a few days back, and—"

"He came later than usual, we know, but he came back without a scratch, like he will, this time too. Right, Glenn?" Shane looked at him, his eyes almost pressuring him to agree.

"A walker came up right behind him! He could have been—"

"It was just one walker, Dale," Glenn tried to reassure the man, who stared at him in exasperation as well. "And I've been there countless times, no big."

"Yeah, see? He knows the city like the back of his hand, you got nothing to worry about—"

"Oh, yes, I do!" Shane placed a hand on his hip, and pinched the bridge of his nose, as Dale continued his outburst. "I mean, for all we know, they're likely running out of food in the city and—"

"If this was the first time we'd be letting him out there, I'd feel the same way, but I think Glenn knows how to _not_ attract a walker's attention, if that's what you're—" Shane seemed to be on the edge of his patience, and Dale was about to protest once again when Andrea interrupted him.

"Hey, everything alright over there?" The three men looked towards the direction of her voice.

"The usual, just headed out the get supplies and—"

"Hold up, man, you saying you going back?" T-Dog expressed his disapproval, and shook his head. "How about I head up with you this time?"

"Exactly!" Dale exclaimed, elated to find someone who wanted to participate.

"If he needs help, I'm willing to go," Morales suggested, patting the head of his daughter, Eliza, as she looked up at him with concern in her eyes.

"Yeah, man, count me in!" T-Dog joined as well, striding towards them.

"Guys—"

"Jacqui and I could go with you, I mean, some of the ladies need some supplies and—" Andrea joined in, with Jacqui, who nodded beside her.

People started to gather around Dale's RV, while the rest of the group watched from afar, as they went on their business.

Shane tried to intervene. "Hold on a second now, we can't risk more people—"

"_Guys_, look—" Glenn tried once more.

"I'm going, no questions there," Merle snorted. "A bunch of wusses like you ought to fuck up sometime."

"You sayin' we can't handle things by ourselves, man?" T-Dog glowered at him.

"Maybe I am," Merle grabbed his rifle and glanced at T-Dog. "So what if I do, then? Huh?"

"Then you—"

"_GUYS._" Glenn said, loudly this time, and everyone turned to him. "If I'm taking one person, it'll be Morales, okay? He knows some parts of the city I don't, and—"

"Hands up, people who want to help," Dale announced, suddenly on the top of his RV. Five people shot their hands up, some even almost immediately.

"But—" Glenn sighed, as they started discussion on the supplies they needed, absent to his silent objection. The last thing he needed were people to slow him down. He walked up to the truck, and decided that he just had to deal with lugging a group of people bait behind him.

"Great."

* * *

The soulless corpses loitered and crawled the ruined streets in broad daylight, making sounds with what little they had left of their voices; which wasn't much at all, considering they only moaned, groaned. They dragged themselves forward, endlessly searching for anything that could serve as a potential meal. As long as blood ran in its veins, it would prove perfect.

"I remember crowds like that at that last concert I went to." Vincent said, and looked out the store's broken windows across the room. "The only difference is… those people were alive, not dead."

There was a large mass of them across the street, around the corner, blindly nudging against each other. As a swarm, it was as if they pulsated in their movements. They were waiting there, for some sort of prey, trying to find someone among them that smelled like food.

"Holy shit." His sister's eyes widened. "Vincent, the word 'crowd' would be an understatement."

"Let's speed up, then." He said, and started stuffing bottles of medicine and boxes of pills into backpack. "Remember, anything we can get."

"No need to tell me twice," She said, and shuffled over to a safer area, where she resumed her scavenging.

Vincent wrinkled his nose at the smell, as they went about their way, as did the unknowing horde outside – until there was a galloping sound that grew louder and louder… and then, a _whinny._

It was then that the massive stampede of walkers scattered and filed down the street, tons and tons of them tailing something that caught their fancy.

"Who the fu—"

Both of them shifted behind shelves in a poor attempt to hide themselves, until one of them found its way inside, pushing itself haphazardly through glass to get to them.

"Six o'clock!" Vincent yelled, and she fumbled with the only form of self-defense on her person, and turned around in time to open jaws and a dying snarl as she pierced her knife through its forehead. She sighed in relief, and watched as it immediately crumpled to the floor, but following its fall, came several other flesh eaters, the exact way the first one entered. Their hands were reaching out to them, outstretched, and they edged closer and closer, a little faster in their step, the moment they caught sight of their snack.

"Eyes are the window to one's soul", it is said.

The only thing that managed to hold their purpose throughout was their eyes, and one could most definitely see that these things, they had _no_ soul in them whatsoever – only the intentions to rip, tear and eat.

Clean to the bone.

"Chompers!" She beckoned her brother to run. "Come on!"

They grabbed their bags in a hurry, and immediately dashed to the back of the store, and out the way they came from. Their feet took them as fast as they could, as their arms struggled with the weight of the bags they hauled along.

* * *

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You the new sheriff, come riding in to clean the town?" Glenn panted.

"It wasn't my intention," The man said, perspiration dripping down his face.

"Yeah, whatever. Yeehaw." He looked at him, a pang of annoyance in his voice. "You're still a dumbass."

He continued to catch his breath, as he stared at the increasing number of walkers below him. They were increasing by the dozen, as they snarled and bared their teeth, yellowed and rotting. Their eyes remained fixed upon the two blood packs above them. It was obvious that they were eager, a little too eager to get their hands on them.

"Rick." The cop held out his hand to be shaken. "Thanks."

He stared at it, almost hesitantly.

"Glenn." He shook his hand. "You're welcome."

He glimpsed down once more, to find that one had uncovered the art of climbing up a ladder, and as if in celebration, the rasping noises they made grew louder, as it grasped rung after rung.

"Oh no."

Rick glanced down, and Glenn proceeded to look up the ladder.

"The bright side: It'll be the fall that kills us." He looked back at Rick. "I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy."

* * *

They slammed the door shut behind them, both simultaneously sunk against the wall, their chests heaving.

"Reckon they're gone?"

Another snarl to their right.

"Not quite." Vincent said, and peered around the corner.

He checked for a split-second, and quickly edged towards his sister, and urged her to take out her knife. "Four of them, you take two, I take two."

She nodded, and he took out his dagger. They got back up on their feet, and showed themselves, moving past the safety of the corner.

Their advances were quick, both ravenous and bloodthirsty, but they both made a leap for one each, aiming for any asset or area of their face. They plunged their weapons into their rotten flesh and pulled out, dark blood tainting their blades. They collapsed, and made way for the other two corpses that came shambling towards the siblings. It was then that she sliced through its brain, and he stabbed under the chin, making a quick job of it.

"Ought to do it," Vincent said, and wiped his dagger on the shirt of the body under him.

She panted, and did the same, brushing the sleeve of her jacket across her brow.

It was then that two people came down the stairs to their right, and two people came out of the door to their left.

They were familiar with none other than the Korean guy to their right, who looked just as bewildered and flushed as they did.

"Make that three guests and zero geeks," Glenn halted, immediately recognising both of them, as T-Dog and Morales lift the front of their helmets.


	4. Appearances Over First Names

**DISCLAIMER: I've signed the papers. I own Glenn now. MWAHAHAH - not really. Not at all.**

**A/N: I should try to make these chapters shorter. Phew. Also, if I did type the scene between Merle and T-Dog, it would have taken a bit longer to have posted this up. Anyways, what do you guys think? Let me know. :) **

* * *

"Come on, come on!" T-Dog rushed them inside, as he noticed one walker start to crawl and make its ay underneath the bus that blocked the alley.

Vincent snatched their supplies and they scrambled towards the door, cramming themselves inside the small room, where two more survivors waited.

Of which one took no time in deciding whether or not to aim her gun to Rick's head.

"One of you ought to be dead." Andrea pointed a gun at each of them, hovering from Rick to Vincent. Her breathing was short and ragged, her eyes rabid. They watched as her hands trembled, however, still holding the weapon firmly.

"Just chill out, Andrea." Morales said, taking off his protective gear.

Glenn remained frozen, and watched as the atmosphere grew in tension. He was hesitant to speak up; one side of him was still irritated that Rick, previously a helpless person trapped in a tank– was the person who caused them to be in such a tight situation in the first place. Regardless, he knew that he himself wouldn't have been able to just leave him there. He still had a conscience.

She suddenly shoved the barrel of the gun to the flesh of Vincent's forehead. "Whoa, there now—"

"Was it you, then?" She pressed the gun deeper, and Vincent gulped.

"That's my brother!"

She looked at the girl to her left, and then shifted the gun to her head instead.

"Has to be you," She said, her index finger creeping over the trigger, as she took a step closer.

"Hey, if you're pissed about the multitude of chompers that roam the streets—"

"I _am_," Andrea rose her voice, fuming. "Now, if you would just tell me which asshole did this—"

"Well, I don't know, alright?! We were scavenging, then some fucker arrives on a horse thinking it's a damn fine morning to—"

The next thing they realised, she had the pistol to Rick, and he leaned back against the crate instinctively, in an attempt to maintain the keep a good distance between himself and her.

"You son of a bitch," she spat, "all of this, is your fault."

Shadows fell upon her face in such a way that made her look insane. She pushed him further back, and held the gun steadily, closer to his face.

"Come, on ease up," Jacqui tried to tell her, in high hopes that she would lower the weapon.

"Ease up? You're kidding me, right?" she said, her eyes boring into Rick's. "We're dead because of this stupid asshole."

"Andrea, I said back the hell off," Morales said.

She stayed like that and he waited, as if the words she heard went in through her ear and out the other end.

"Well, pull the trigger, then." He urged, and she trembled once more, and released her hold on him, putting the assault weapon away. Her shoulder rose and fell, as she fought with the effort to not cry.

"We're dead… All of us…" She shook her head, her eyes on the verge of tearing up; the situation made her desperate. "Because of you."

"Oh, you're… don't tell me the cowboy's the one that got us here…" Vincent groaned.

"I don't understand," Rick simply said, looking at everybody else in the room. Morales drove him out the door, and the others followed them both.

"Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving." He pushed Rick forward a bit too hard, forcing him to walk faster. "You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing – not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K Corral."

"Every geek for miles heard you popping off rounds," T-Dog said, and they stopped in front of the entrance to the store.

"You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea said.

"Lovely." The shorter one of the siblings sighed loudly.

Behind the double set of doors before them, with their decaying skin and sickly eyes, a clump of walkers were huddled and pressed against the glass, growling, clawing, banging – exerting all their effort in order to reach the people in the room. One of the group had somehow managed to come in possession of a brick, and had started to use it to its advantage, and against the glass. They were like trapped animals in a zoo, except that they weren't there to provide some sort of entertainment, they were a five star buffet to their hungry spectators.

"Oh God," Andrea said, and they went back a few steps. Glenn looked at the glass on the doors, the cracks gradually growing bigger in size.

"Hey T-Dog, try that C.B. Can you contact the others?" Morales said.

"There are others?" Vincent looked at them.

T-Dog tried to tamper with the dial, adjusting it as so as to listen carefully.

"Got no signal – maybe the roof."

There was the sound of a gunshot, once, twice. The rest of the group best discerned that the source of the sound came from above, where Merle was stated.

"Oh no… Is that Dixon?" Andrea looked back at the walkers, who seemed to become more agitated with the sound of the gun firing.

"Come on, let's go." Glenn gestured, and ran towards the stairs, each one of them tailed after him.

* * *

Merle was situated there, and continued to shoot at walkers afar, even as the group arrived at the rooftop. He didn't give a damn about whatever happened to the rest of them, this was idea of fun, watching in amusement through his sniper rifle as they fell to their knees and got thrown back by a mere bullet to the head.

A few members yelled at him to bring the gunfire to a stop, and he simply turned in response, with a gloating smile planted upon on his face. He jumped off and walked towards them, hinting that one should be more polite to a man with a gun. T-Dog approached him, in another attempt to get him to just be over with his shooting frenzy. Merle only refused to listen, and laughed. He commented that ''that'll be the day" when he ever took orders from someone of T-Dog's race.

Morales tried to get T-Dog to lay off, but it was already too late to prevent – the others only watched in silence as this argument caused them to lunge at each other, T-Dog getting knocked off his feet and unto the ground face first. Merle started hitting him multiple times, kicking and punching him at whatever part of him he could reach, as if he had no intentions – no will to even stop. People advanced, trying to get in between them both and end the brawl, however, who tried either received a punch to the face, or a blow to the stomach. The two siblings and Morales, received the blows, but Rick, to the face.

The air was filled with Andrea's and Jacqui's pleads for him to just stop, but Merle continued for a few more, and then held a pistol out to T-Dog's face, panting and wide-eyed underneath his grip.

He chuckled at the sudden authority he thought had over them, as soon as he saw the looks on their faces. He stood up as the others tended to T-Dog, and announced that he was in command, in charge, and cockily enough, decided to hold up a vote, in which he voted for himself. The rest grumbled and raised their hand reluctantly, while Jacqui did the same… and flipped the finger at him.

"Yeah, that's good. Now that means I'm the boss, right? Yeah. Anybody else? Hmm? Anybody?"

"Yeah."

The officer brought down a pipe to his head with extreme force that had Merle on his ass for enough time to enable him to handcuff the threat to a pipe.

* * *

"He always like this?" Vincent cocked his head at the handcuffed man, still clutching his stomach.

"Yeah, he and T-Dog never really got along on level-headed terms, but then again, I don't think anyone else does here." Morales said, and leaned against the roof's parapet. "Glenn knows you two, then?"

The two looked at each other, as Morales looked down at the streets, until one of them spoke up.

"Yeah… yeah, he does." The sister said, purposefully not mentioning of how they came across each other, or rather, how they came across him.

"You guys from around here?"

"Macon," Vincent responded, "but we moved back and forth to some other places."

"I see." Morales glanced at the rest of the group, some pacing about in worry. "Thanks for getting rid of the geeks in the alley, by the way."

"If Officer Friendly here didn't startle the chompers, then we probably wouldn't have been there to, but, we were." Glenn walked towards them.

"Huh, chompers." He acknowledged the new term, and made way for Glenn. "How did you get past them?"

"Eira and I took a few out, quiet. Only the ones that were too close for comfort, y'know?"

Morales nodded, and Glenn pulled himself up the parapet to sit on it.

"We tried our luck on some door, and oh man. It was luck." He sighed in relief.

"Eira?" Glenn muttered the name underneath his breath, new to him, as Morales continued to talk to Vincent.

She looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

It was only then that he realized that he never really got to know her name. That was probably the first step to get to know the person – but it wasn't like he wanted to call her by her name.

"Huh." Glenn adjusted his cap, and continued to listen in on their conversation.

No, he still probably would have found some shorter way to be able to address her as 'the one that held a gun to his head for no apparent reason'.


	5. Innards

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Walking Dead. But I've kidnapped Glenn.**

**A/N: Forgive me, readers. Spare me, for I have made this chapter far too lengthy. Regardless, have you seen the thing at the end that begins with "Type your review for this chapter here"? Yes, now I put my faith in you to do as said. Okay no, I kid. But it would help. :) Guest reviews are allowed too. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"What about the streets? The sewers?" Rick brought up.

"Oh man – hey, Glenn, check the alley." Morales turned, and Glenn got to his feet and headed over to the other side of the roof. "You see any manhole covers?"

Glenn glanced down, and scoped the alley. It was empty, other than for walker astray, amongst all the ones on the floor. "No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are."

"Maybe not." Jacqui turned, her eyes bright. "Old building like this, built in the '20s… Big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down in the subbasements."

"How do you know that?" Glenn said, running over back to them.

"It's my job… was. I used to work in the city zoning office."

* * *

"This is it? Are you sure?"

They shined their flashlights down. There was a ladder that led down, and from there on, they failed to make out what was inside. What they managed make out from it, was that it was dank, and unwelcoming. The foul smell of garbage and waste was strong, and a few of them pinched their noses in revulsion.

"I really scoped this place out the other times I was here. It's the only thing in the building that goes down. But I've never gone down it." Glenn almost laughed. "I mean, who'd want to, right?"

Everybody else looked at him, and Glenn blinked.

"Oh. Great." He took a glimpse once again, down at the sewer entrance.

"We'll be right behind you," Andrea added.

"No, you won't. Not you."

"Why not me?" She said, somewhat taken aback by his words. "Think I can't?"

"I wasn't…" Glenn trailed off.

"Speak your mind." Rick said.

"Look, until now I always came here by myself. Grab a few things, no problem. The first time I bring a group…"

The others waited on his next word.

"Everything goes to hell. No offense." Glenn paused, and went on. "If you want me to go down this hole, fine. But only if we do it my way. It's tight down there. If I run into something and have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me, getting me killed. I'll take one person."

Rick stepped towards him, ready to volunteer, but Glenn held him back.

"Not you either – you've got Merle's gun, and I've seen you shoot. I'd feel better if you were out in that store, watching those doors." He gestured towards Andrea. "You've got the only other gun, so you should go with him."

Andrea nodded, and went off in direction of the store, with Rick following close behind her.

"You be my wingman." He looked at Morales, who stepped beside Glenn, with the ladder at their feet. "Jacqui stays here. Something happens, yell down to us, and get us back up here in a hurry."

"Okay," Jacqui understood, and moved closer to the entrance.

"Right… wait, where are the other two?"

* * *

The other two stood beside each other, each stationed at both sides of the store. They stared in silence at the doors, both armed with their own guns.

Eira walked up towards her brother, browsing through clothes as she made her way through.

"Huh, some time to go shopping, sis." Vincent noticed her, and she shrugged.

"We left the only other clothes we had back at that place. If we're to find another place to stay—"

"You can stay with us," Andrea entered the room.

The siblings looked at each other.

"I mean, is there an option?"

"Guess not." Eira said, and moved to them both. "Found the sewer entrance?"

"Yeah, Glenn sent us here to keep an eye on the doors," She responded, and glanced at the jewellery counter. Eira tagged after her.

"See something you like?" Rick sauntered over to them.

"Not me, but I know someone who would… my sister. She's still such a kid in some ways." Andrea said, as she went towards one particular necklace, and held the mermaid pendant in her hand. "Unicorns, dragons, she's into all that stuff, but mermaids… they rule. She loves mermaids."

"I bet she'll love it." Eira said, and patted her back.

"I would take it, but there's a cop staring at me," Andrea looked at Rick, and he chuckled. "Would it be considered looting?"

"Don't think those rules apply anymore. Do you?"

Andrea smiled and lifted the necklace off its stand, placing it safely away in her pocket.

At that same moment, there was the sound of glass cracking, and shattering. The first set of doors gave in, and the walkers hustled their way over to the second set of doors, and their calls were louder and more rampant than before, knowing that what only separated them from having a feast was the glass in front of them.

"Oh God…" Vincent said, aiming his gun towards the doors.

Rick jumped to action, gun at the ready, while Glenn and Morales ran into the scene.

"What did you find down there?"

"Not a way out." Glenn responded, his brows drew together, and he bit his lip.

* * *

They retreated to the roof once more, and each one of them continued to peer at the streets below them. They knew they had been there for a while, but all efforts to get out of there had failed miserably so far. T-Dog continued to fiddle with the talkie, making various attempts to call out to the other members of the group.

"There has to be something we can do," Eira said, and dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"We need to find some way, and soon." Andrea paced back and forth, frequently running her hands through her hair.

"That construction site, those trucks… they always keep keys on hand." Rick said, and passed the binoculars to Morales.

He peered through them, and the possible road they would've taken to get there, that was filled with walkers. "You'll never make it past the walkers."

Rick turned to look at Glenn. "You got me out of that tank—"

"Yeah, but they were feeding." Glenn said, and looked through the binoculars as well, before passing them back to Morales. "They were distracted."

"Can we distract them again? Wait… they're drawn by sound, right?"

"Right… like dogs." Glenn nodded. "They hear a sound, they come."

"What else?"

"Aside from they hear you? They see you, they smell you – and if they catch you, they eat you." Morales put down his binoculars, and looked at the both of them.

"They can tell us by smell?"

"Can't you?" Glenn glanced at the officer, who suddenly looked deep in thought.

"They smell dead, we don't. It's pretty distinct," Andrea said.

"…What are you thinking?" Vincent said slowly, watching as Rick processed this information.

* * *

"If bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would take the gold." Glenn said, holding a bundle of rubber gloves in his arms.

Rick carried on, yanked off large coats from their hangers, and tossed them over to Vincent and Morales.

The others started to put their gloves on.

"I'd have to agree." Vincent looked uncomfortable. "I should never have asked you what you were thinking…"

"He's right. Just stop, okay? Take some time to think this through." Morales grasped Rick's arm.

"How much time? They already got through one set of doors; that glass won't hold forever."

* * *

"Jesus Christ," Eira hissed, and instantly looked away the moment she heard sharp metal hit dead flesh, again, and again.

"Oh," Andrea's face crumpled in disgust, as she faced the other way.

"Madre de Dios," Morales clutched his chest, and squinted his eyes as Rick continued to hack away at the corpse.

Rick separated his limbs and sliced through them at the joints.

"Oh God," Glenn bent at his knees, trying to ignore the marred belly before them, with its intestines all over the place.

"Keep chopping," Rick handed over the axe to Morales, who began to slash at the body once more.

"I don't have the stomach for this," said Vincent, who stared through the gaps between his fingers.

"I am so gonna hurl," Glenn said, with his head between his hands.

"Later."

Morales paused, and dropped the axe, scrunching his nose.

"Okay, everybody got gloves? Don't get any on your skin, or in your eyes."

They flinched as they all bent down to face the body, each of them digging into its stomach to scoop up a handful of what looked like minced guts. A few people smeared their hands unto Glenn's coat, and the others, on Rick's.

"This is gross…" Vincent said, and rubbed harder unto Glenn's back.

"You think?" groaned Glenn.

"Any more volunteers?" Rick kneeled down and reached into the mess, spreading more unto his chest.

Vincent nudged Eira. "Hey, wha—"

"We could use cover," Rick said.

"And you've got the peripheral vision for it."

"How would you know?" She returned to slapping more guts onto Rick.

Vincent shot her a look, and stained Glenn's back with a bit more force than necessary. "I do recall that you played ice hockey—"

"Oh God, oh jeez. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad." Glenn hunched his shoulders, his face ashen.

"Think about something else… like puppies and kittens."

"_Dead_ puppies and kittens." T-Dog said, morose.

Glenn suddenly cowered and gagged to his side.

"That is just evil," Andrea glared at Rick. "What is wrong with you?"

"Next time, let the cracker beat his ass." Jacqui looked up at Rick, a slight scowl on her face.

"I'm sorry." He looked down at his coat, now tarnished with walker innards. "We smell like them yet?"

"Oh yeah," Andrea said. "Glenn. Just in case."

He stood up and she pulled out her gun, and placed it into the pocket of his coat.

Vincent went out the door.

"Hey, what's he doing—" T-Dog began.

He returned, and dragged the other corpse into the room.

"Isn't one enough?" Eira said, irked.

"Axe please," Vincent held out his hand, and Morales gave it to him, along with the helmet.

He pulled the helmet on, along with its protective cover. He took two, four large steps back, and took a deep breath. He drove towards the second corpse and brought down the axe with such force that its navel burst open, the stomach spilling more guts, the blood splattering and specking the helmet and his vision. Vincent whacked and whacked, until its insides stained the floor, while the others watched and shuddered.

"You done?"Jacqui looked at him.

"Yeah." Vincent said, gasping. He removed the helmet and abandoned the axe. He stooped and grabbed a handful of guts, and smeared it on his sister.

"Oh, you're going."

Eira stared daggers at him, as she draped an intestine carefully around Glenn's neck.

"Ugh..." Glenn his wrinkled his nose, and narrowed his eyes at her.

"You want me killed."

"I'd get why." Glenn said, and she glowered at him too. "I mean…"

Vincent only continued to splotch her coat with the walker's entrails. "Arms up."

"Just..." Her upper lip curled up, revolted, as her brother plunged half his arm into the remnants of the corpse he lacerated, making a mushy like sound as his hand ventured its recesses. "God."

"C'mon," he said, "arms up, now."

She adhered unwillingly, slowly lifting up both her arms.

"Atta girl!" He said, as if she had overcome a great task.

"Words cannot fathom how much _detest_ you as of now."

Glenn resisted the urge to laugh.


	6. Go Time

**DISCLAIMER: The papers are being signed.**

**A/N: Two day break ought to deal with it, I guess. I was having trouble with what parts to include, but thank goodness it isn't as long as the previous one. But here it is! Also. I SAW A RED DODGE CHALLENGER TODAY. It was _exactly_ like the one Glenn drove in. I just... Anyway. Enjoy! Please do leave a review. :)**

* * *

"Well," Eira tossed an intestine over her shoulder, "this isn't my type of attire, but whatever doesn't get me killed is fashionable enough to me."

The other continued to layer and smear over their coats, their noses crinkled from the smell. Jacqui made one last knot, tying both feet secure on both ends of a string. She stood up, and placed it around Rick's neck in the manner as one would a scarf.

"Better be safe than sorry," She gave him an apologetic look, and continued to fix the string.

"Considering this will even work…" Morales said, and went on tying knots.

"It will." Rick insisted, and inspected the axe in his hands.

"Eira." Vincent said, with a deadpan face.

"What?"

"You smell like shit."

"Tell me something, Vincent." She said, and picked up the baseball bat, acquiring a firm hold on it. "Do you really expect a chomper's guts to smell like flowers?" No, right?"

Andrea then placed another string, but with severed hands on either end, around Glenn's neck.

"Do you have to?" Glenn said, as the only hint of colour that returned to his face seemed to vanish once more.

"What Jacqui said, Glenn."

He sighed and grabbed the crowbar that sat on top of the crate.

Everybody watched as the three looked down at their coats, thickly smothered in a dark red, with weapons at the ready. Rick shuffled over to the exit first.

"Let's go," He signalled, and opened the door. The other two followed after him.

"How about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog said.

Rick took a moment to carefully remove his glove, and dig into the pocket of his jeans. He then tossed the key over to T-Dog.

As soon as the three of them made their way out, Morales shut the door closed behind them.

"Okay, Rick and I will be in front, you, at the back. Clear?" Glenn looked at the both of them, with intestines and walker insides that dangled from their necks, like decor.

"As day," She responded.

"Good."

They walked past the two bodies sprawled on the floor, and to where the bus blocked the alley. They went on their fours, Rick and Glenn first.

"Here goes nothing," Eira mumbled, and inched slowly through the tight space, after them.

The trio got to their feet once more, and began to shuffle amongst the dead. The two in front imitated their gait, whilst the one behind them took careful, cautious steps – not too fast, neither too slow.

They watched around them, as the corpses simply limped with no direction, looking for a meal that was amongst them. It was then that one walker seemed to cock its head at him, and peer at him, as if curiously. Glenn grasped the pipe in his hands tightly, and willed himself to look ahead.

It came closer towards his face, and stared at him, then went on past him. He tried not to sigh in relief, as he watched it moved forward, nose in the air.

* * *

"That's them," Morales immediately spotted them through his binoculars, and pointed.

Andrea snatched the binoculars from him. "Oh God, it's really working…"

"It ought to." Vincent said, and squinted down below him.

A rumbling sound approached, from high above them.

"That asshole is out on the street with the handcuff keys?"

T-Dog presented the key before his eyes, and Merle narrowed his eyes into slits.

* * *

"It's gonna work, I can't believe it…" Glenn whispered.

The trio continued to drag themselves down the street, still wary of their surroundings, as they watched the revenants amongst them. They could almost make out the fence from where they were at, and they moved somewhat faster, in an attempt to rush towards it.

"Holy _shit_—" Eira looked over her shoulder, back at them.

"Don't. Draw. Attention." Rick gritted his teeth.

They continued on in silence, their lips pressed tightly together, uncomfortable underneath their coats. The walkers still failed to detect the three amidst them, and so lingered, crawled, limped. Glenn saw many faces, ones of children, the middle-aged, elders – all of which only had no more character in them anymore, but all shared one common objective: to eat.

The fence was only a five minute jog through the street, but as they approached closer, and closer, the sky grew darker, and darker. Eira glanced upwards to find a lightless sky, when she clearly recalled looking at a piercing sun ten minutes earlier.

Darker tones casted their shadows upon them, and it started to pour.

* * *

"It's…" Jacqui lifted her head to the skies.

Each of them knew it was rain. It was in no doubt, nothing other than that.

"Oh man. It's just a cloudburst. We get them all the time. It'll pass really quick…" Morales said, almost in an attempt to convince himself, to bring light to the situation.

"They're close to the fence." Vincent commented, keeping a close eye on the trio, through the binoculars.

* * *

With the first sound of thunder they heard, the rain started to increase. Glenn continued to 'limp', and caught sight of their feet. Their guts were washing off.

"Gentlemen, do _not _panic." Eira gulped.

The walkers scattered and moved to where they thought they smelled life, their snarls louder.

The three of them tightened their grip on their weapons as they moved at a steady pace, while the walkers hastened over to them, drawn like moths to a flame.

"The smell's washing off. Isn't it? Is it washing off?" Glenn's breath hitched, and he slowly turned head to the walker beside him.

It, and the ones around them, appeared to grow more restless, as the rain seemed to pour more heavily than before. Their gaze seemed to settle upon them, their eyes never shifting. Their mouths hung open, ready to bite – but it was as if they were in turmoil, arguing with their senses.

"No, it's not." Rick looked to the walker beside him, suddenly closer than earlier. "Well, maybe."

It rained harder, and it was then, with their scent immediately exposed to them, that they had the starting gun, the green light. Go time.

One launched itself at Rick, who brought down the axe upon its skull.

"Run!"

They sprinted in direction of where the fence was, with an entire mass of walkers right at their back.

As Rick advanced forward and rammed the blade of his axe down the head of one. He haphazardly swung it at another that made its way to him, with just enough strength to bring it down to its knees. He ran, until one in his way staggered towards him, and with both his arms raised, and the sound of sharp metal meeting the head's fleshy interior, the blade managed to settle itself deep between the walker's eyebrows and down the bridge of its nose, and as it fell, Rick stumbled and nearly lost his footing.

He jerked the axe free, and barely had enough time to compose himself before he turned to his left, and swished the axe in time to just _almost_ miss his chance. The random attempt had been enough to leave a deep gash, above its ear, but it was all that was needed to fall to the ground.

Glenn dashed through and in between walkers swiftly, and bashed the head of two, three, in his way, with Eira, who followed close approach. She batted at the corpses she came across as she ran – it didn't stop the rest of them, but it reduced their chances of being a meal so soon.

They ran like hell, their hearts pounding and racing with the strife to get up and over the fence as soon as they could.

Rick was gasping with the effort, breath short as he ran flung the axe over the fence and rushed to climb, until one on the ground, with its arms outstretched, was about to dig its fingers into the skin of his calf, when Glenn crushed its scalp with his crowbar. He threw the crowbar over the fence with careless abandon and began to climb.

Eira was about to do the same, when she turned, in the split second of catching one about to lunge at her. She knocked it off its feet with one blow, and slammed her bat down to its skull repeatedly, reducing what was left of its brain to nothing more than mush.

Just as more of them had started to file in, and started to gather around her, she cast the bat over the fence, her feet and her hands already climbing the fence rapidly. Panting, she took the leap and landed on her feet. She shrugged out of the coat and gloves just as the other two had, and ran towards Glenn, who fretted as he searched for where the keys were.

The fence rattled and shook with the force that was being put against it, as their hands clawed and pawed at the fence. Some succeeded in almost getting over themselves up and over, but Rick proceeded to pull out his gun and take them out.

"You found it yet?!" She exclaimed over the sound, and he nodded vigorously, as he destroyed the lock with his crowbar in one shot, and snatched the keys.

"Rick!" Glenn yelled, and chucked the keys at Rick, who caught them.

Each of them bolted towards the truck; Rick leapt into the driver's seat and brought the engine to life, while Eira reached the passenger seat. Glenn wedged in beside her and slammed the door shut after him.

"Go go go go!"

The tires of the truck screeched against the wet highway as they took a reverse, then speeded off, as the fence gave in, letting the disarray of walkers through, as they chased after them.

* * *

"They're leaving us…" Andrea said, her voice almost hoarse.

Vincent bit his lower lip as he watched the truck disappeared around the corner.


	7. Lukewarm

**DISCLAIMER: Still not mine. *tear falls***

**A/N: In all due honesty, I was happy with the title, and only until Glenn's badass, lure-out-all-the-zombies part. After that, shit hit the fan, and this chapter suddenly had no Eira and Glenn bits... Gleira bits. What. Anyway, story development, buddies. I think it has to happen. But if I were to add any, well, 'Gleira' bits, it would have been longer than the fifth chapter. Think of this chapter as a transitional one. I promise you better for the next one, however. :) But hey, should we call them 'Gleira'? Do tell. Might do a poll, or something - or, you can tell me in a review? Hint, hint.**

* * *

"Where they going? Where they going?"

Merle grew increasingly fitful by the moment.

"No no, come back…" Andrea looked through the binoculars once more, searching for a sign, anything, that told them that the truck was headed back for them.

* * *

"Oh my God, Oh my God… they're all over that place!" Glenn panicked, looking to Rick for an answer.

Rick took a sharp turn and accelerated, forcing his foot down upon the gas pedal. The view outside the passenger window was almost a blur, as they passed many cars, many remains, many reanimated. It had stopped raining, and it was bright once more.

"We can't just—"

"We're coming back." Rick glanced at her and then at Glenn, as he kept the steering wheel steady. "You need to draw them away… those roll up doors at the front of the store, that area? That's what I need cleared. Raise your friends, tell them to get down there and be ready."

"And I'm drawing the geeks away how? I missed that part," Glenn said, clutching his walkie talkie.

A moment later, he brought the truck to a halt, stepping on the brake almost too suddenly as they stopped by a sports car. The gleaming car seemed to be in perfect condition, missing scratches or dents that came with most cars they saw around them. At least, before Rick walked up to it.

"Noise."

With crowbar in hand, he smashed the driver's window, and continued to, until the shards of glass that stuck out from the sides were gone, and allowed his arm through. The two stepped out of the truck, as the alarm started to sound, too loud to the point where it was almost deafening. Glenn pressed his hands over his ears, and Eira looked around them anxiously, as Rick bent inside and began to hotwire the car.

* * *

"_Those roll up doors at the front of the store, facing the street – hurry."_ Vincent heard his sister's voice through the intercom, and wasted no time in grabbing their bags.

"Come on!" He yelled at the rest of the group, as he headed to the door.

"Guys!" Andrea seized her bag, and ran after Vincent.

Merle started to struggle against the cuff on his wrist, his eyes following where they went. "Hey! You can't leave me here!"

Jacqui snatched their possessions and pulled at the corner of T-Dog's sleeve. She cocked her head towards the door.

He watched as each of them rushed out, as the people lessened.

Merle wasn't one to seek for the company of others, but it was then that he would rather be surrounded by the people he thought to be idiots and were, most importantly, _alive_, rather than be surrounded than the dead, who looked at him not as an enemy, but as the only thing on their menu, which was far worse.

"Morales! Don't do this, man!" Merle shouted. "Hey, that's my gun!"

His eyes followed Jacqui as she fled out the door, after Andrea and Vincent.

"Let's go, T-Dog!" Morales called, and he hurried after the others, their hands and arms full with backpacks and gear as they bustled down the flights of stairs.

T-Dog was about to leave too, when Merle turned to him, rattling the handcuff, desperation in his eyes.

"No, man, you can't leave me! You can't leave me here, not like this! You can't, it's not human!" He begged.

T-Dog groaned in frustration.

* * *

"A turn here…"

Glenn muttered under his breath, beads of sweat rolling down his temples as he drove left.

The store where they were in was at the first right. He spurred forward, but a bit too fast, and missed the turn he was supposed to go in. He braked. Placing his hand on the back of the passenger seat and his eyes to the back of the car, he backed the car up gradually, until the street they needed to be in came into view once more. He swerved the car to the right in a neat turn, and brought the car to a stop once more.

He waited.

He watched as the inevitable came by, jostling against each other, barely able to contain their excitement, as they growls grew in volume.

"Come on, come on. Get closer, closer…" Glenn trailed off, as they started to hem in towards the car, allured by the sound.

"Come on, already…"

He continued to reverse in small bursts, he was being nice, making sure that each of them had their chance to paw on the windshield, stroke the hood.

Once a fine number had gathered, he shifted backwards and with a stroke of the steering wheel, he drove off, bringing with him the large crowd of walkers.

Just as Glenn led them away from that street, Rick drove in with the truck.

* * *

Dale peered through his own binoculars, his eyes peeled for the source of whatever it was that was causing that sound. It reverberated through the mountain tops, still loud as ever.

He followed what seemed to be a red sports car, making its way towards their camp.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"Is it them? Are they back?" Amy called up from below the RV, looking up at him.

Dale put down the binoculars. "A stolen car is my guess."

The car alarm siren drew nearer, and everybody stared as the vehicle entered down the gravelly, dusty path, stopping right in front of Dale's RV.

Glenn stepped out with a grin plastered onto his face, still caught in the adrenaline rush of driving beyond speed limits that did not exist anymore. It was evident from the light in his eyes, the colour on his cheeks.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale yelled at him.

"I don't know how!"

"Pop the hood, please." Shane said, a stern look on his face as he walked towards the car.

"My sister? Andrea? Is she okay? Is she okay?" Amy started to question him.

"What?" Glenn said, over the noise.

"Pop the damn hood, please!" Shane exclaimed.

"Okay, okay! Yeah – yeah yeah yeah yeah, okay! " Glenn raised his arms in surrender as he bent inside to open the hood.

"Is she okay? Is she _alright_?" Amy pressed on. "Did she get out of the city—"

"Yeah yeah yeah, she's okay, she's okay!" He stood up once more, and Shane lifted the hood.

Jim walked over and inspecting it closely, reaching his hand towards the fuse box to pull out the alarm fuse.

"Why isn't she with you?"

He pulled, and the siren ended.

"Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes! Yes. Everybody's fine… well, Merle, not so much." Glenn said, his voice dropped to its normal level.

"Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here – you trying to draw every walker for miles?" Shane snapped at him as he placed his hands on the bumper and leaned against it, head bent down low.

Glenn opened his mouth to speak, and Amy remained silent.

"Actually, I think we're okay." Dale squinted into the distance.

"You call being stupid okay?"

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills… hard to pinpoint the source." Shane shot him a look. "I'm not arguing, I'm just saying."

"And you…" He got down from where he was earlier atop his RV, approaching Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Sorry." Glenn shrugged, and gestured to the car. "Got a cool car, though."

* * *

"Best not to dwell on it." Morales said to Rick, as he parked the truck after Glenn's. "Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back…"

"Except Daryl." T-Dog's forehead creased. "I didn't mean to drop the damn key…"

"Daryl?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

"His brother."

Both his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

Morales opened the door, and gave Rick a pat on the back. "Come meet everybody. You two back there, come on out."

Rick sighed, and remained as Morales and the others went out of the truck.

* * *

Glenn watched as the people returned to their families, broad smiles on their faces. It was a privilege he never got to have when things took a turn for the worst – his ties with his parents were already severed, and he was away from them when it all went downhill.

Amy ran up towards Andrea, both of them hugging each other as tightly as they could.

"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me!" Amy said, tearing up, as she continued to hold her older sister.

He smiled half-heartedly. Leaning against the car, he adjusted his cap and folded his arms.

"Hey, come here, sweetie." Morales came towards his children and wife, arms wide open as he caught his child in his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Told you I'd be back, didn't I?"

The feeling that he had when he saw families together, it was still new to him in so many different ways – a combination of unwanted feelings, all jumbled up and thrown right at his face for him to experience.

Maybe, he thought, with time, his response would come to be lukewarm.

"How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane watched as Lori comforted her son, Carl.

She was on her knees when she spoke to him, both his hands in hers as she stared up at her son's watery eyes. He was still waiting for his father.

"New guy… he got us out." Glenn glanced at the two siblings.

"Him?" Shane cocked his head at Vincent, who seemed to be demonstrating something to Eira.

"Nope, we stumbled upon them when we were escaping, but this guy, the crazy Vato, he's new to town." Morales turned to the direction of the truck and hollered. "Hey, helicopter boy, come say hello!"

Glenn saw Rick open the door and he stepped out, weary in his step as he walked towards them.

"Guy's a cop, like you."

Shane craned his neck slightly, curious about this 'new guy'.

Within those few seconds, he expected to see a face he didn't know. It could have been some tall, lanky guy, flat nose, piercing eyes and a scar on his left eyebrow, maybe – but what he wasn't expecting was to see the familiar, gentle eyes and the face of his supposedly 'dead' partner.

He wasn't expecting him to run up to Lori, to Carl and hold them both in his arms, and steal away all that he thought he had for himself, just like that.

He wasn't expecting him, not at all.


End file.
